I hold my hand out to her. “C’mon.”
Her brows rise slowly. “Where are we going?”
“Away from here. You’ve spent too long cooped up in the shop, in this cabin, and on this homestead. And after today, you need a change of scenery.”
Hopefully, one that can help her snap out of this downward spiral she seems to be stuck in.
Things should be advancing, getting better, but Snow reminded us that nothing actually moves fast when it comes to the government, especially back-door plea negotiations.
That has left all of us hanging in the wind again.
Waiting.
Like I am now for her to take my proffered hand.
Lucky considers me, and for a second I think she might actually say no, might cave in on herself and give in to those old instincts, but she finally slides her hand into mine and allows me to tug her up from the chair.
Giz jumps down and stares up at us expectantly.
I glance down at him. “He’s coming, too.”
Her brow furrows. “Where are we going?”
There are so many things I’ve wanted to show her on the mountain, so many places I’ve wanted to share with her since she arrived, but with all the uncertainty building around us, I didn’t want to push her.
My greatest fear has been doing anything that might make Lucky run, but now I see that forcing her into a tiny box doesn’t help, either. It’s no better than what that fucker Brad did to her.
“You’ll see.”
The hesitation and uncertainty still lingers in her gaze as I lead her down the steps and to the front door with Giz hot on our heels.
I point to the hiking boots I bought her several weeks ago. “You’re going to need those.”
They’re an absolute necessity on the mountain. She might have been able to get away with wearing her favorite Chucks while she was walking down paved roads and on city streets, but up here, they’re more for appearance than utility. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a line of them in six different colors now waiting next to the boots, but they won’t be useful today.
Tossing me a narrowed look, Lucky does as she’s told, sliding them on and tying them as I go to the closet and grab two of my hiking packs. Her eyes follow me to the kitchen where I toss a few snacks and bottles of water into them before I meet her back at the door.
She shifts on her feet, eyeing the packs. “Should I be…worried?”
I shake my head. “No.”
If anyone should be worried, it should be me.
This could backfire big time, but I have to do something to try to distract her.
“Let’s go.”
The entire trip down the mountain, I can feel her eyes on me and sense how badly she wants to demand that I tell her where we’re headed. I can’t say I blame her for being a little wary after we’ve spent weeks trying to keep her locked away and hidden from pretty much anyone else.
It might have been in her best interests, to protect her, but despite Lucky essentially always being alone, the isolation hasn’t done her any good. Regret about that sits heavily on my chest, so does the uneasiness about where we’re heading—given her history.
When we reach the road at the bottom of the mountain, I turn left, heading toward town, but we don’t go far before the turnoff for the falls appears.
I slow to make the turn down the narrow, gravel road, my hands tightening on the wheel as I peek at her out of the corner of my eye.
Hers widen. “We’re going to the falls?”
“I’ve always wanted to bring you here, so you can see it in all its glory and how beautiful it is—when it’s not pitch-black outside, and you’re not stressed out and worrying.”
